Much More at Stake
by emptyword
Summary: [Oneshot] Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, love is the ultimate selfsacrifice. Kio/Soubi.


Much More at Stake  
By EmptyWord

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**Disclaimer:** _Loveless_ is the property of Yun Kouga, Ichijinsha, Tokyopop, Media Blasters, and others I may have missed.  
**Warning:** One-sided slash merits a warning, I suppose. Also, no matter how I justify it, I don't think Kio is very in-character here.

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Yes, he will admit that he is a selfish person.

He craves many things for himself and he chooses to ignore the desires of the world around him to follow his own wants. Like a child, he acts according to his own impulses alone, and like an adult, he recognizes his own selfishness.

But it is only when he sees the terrible beauty of your paintings that he knows his selfishness exceeds all appropriate bounds. And it is only when he sees the terrible beauty on your face that he wants something more than anyone should.

He wants you to be happy.

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Kaido Kio remembered many things when it came to Agatsuma Soubi. Soubi, who meant to him more than anything he'd ever had before. Soubi, the epitome of beauty, the quintessence of goodness. Soubi, who had come unexpectedly into his life like the most precious of rare gems.

_"Sou-chan, you really like butterflies, don't you?" _

Kio remembered the day the butterflies appeared because it was the day Soubi appeared. Kio noticed them fluttering at classroom windows and outside shrubbery. He would have sworn he saw a few in the building itself, perched decoratively and inconspicuously against the edges of desks and shelves. They were everywhere, but only he noticed.

"_Butterflies? I hate them."_

Kio remembered trying to catch them. The little creatures always flitted and danced just out of reach, begging to be swiped at, and Kio was only too glad to oblige. He made a pastime of it, hopping around with flailing arms. He never caught any, but he did accidentally hit one with a careless hand. He shuddered still when he thought of the hollow look in Soubi's eyes.

"_You hate them?" _

Kio remembered the paintings laid neatly against Soubi's wall, one display after another, boasting an affluence of yellow swallowtails and orange-tipped kumomas and small white monshiros. He had seen the tenderness in Soubi's eyes and wished he had been graced with more attractive features or exceptional artistic talent. Beauty attracts beauty.

"_I despise their beauty. I despise how easily they're caught. What I hate the most is how we pin them with needles, making them specimens."_

Kio remembered the dark-haired boy named Aoyagi Seimei who Soubi had adored. He had always disliked Seimei because Seimei had held the power to make Soubi happy, and all Kio ever saw in Soubi's eyes was that terrible, terrible emptiness. Soubi wouldn't hear a word against Seimei, and Kio had never felt so helpless.

"_What's with you? It's not the butterfly's fault."_

Kio remembered most of all the abject terror in Soubi's eyes when Seimei left. Without Seimei, Soubi lost all purpose, as though his life had been a mission to do Seimei's will. It was that look in Soubi's eyes that made Kio want more than anything to save Soubi.

So when the two of them stayed late at the studio one evening and Soubi painted an unnecessary butterfly design into their project, Kio could no more have stopped himself from asking than he could have cut out his own selfish heart.

"Soubi..." Kio's whisper was so soft Soubi nearly missed it. Kio was rarely so quiet. "Soubi, _you're_ the butterfly, aren't you?"

_And you despise..._

Soubi turned away, saw the latest butterfly pattern gleaming fresh on his easel, and turned away again. "What are you asking, Kio."

Kio touched Soubi's arm, the gesture uncharacteristically gentle. "Sou-chan," he said with strange desperation, "you know I love you."

The words were less a confession than a strategic statement. Soubi moved farther away, out of the line of fire, and Kio's hand slid off to dangle uselessly at his side. Kio ignored the painful twinge in his chest; he knew his friend's suffering was far greater, had always been far greater.

_You know I would bear your burdens for you, if you would let me._

"You know that, Sou-chan."

_But you will never let me._

"But it isn't enough. It doesn't – " Kio swallowed and forced the next words out. "My love doesn't matter. What matters, Sou-chan, is your own love."

His reply was that time-honored declaration of devotion. "I love Ritsuka." _Of course_.

How often had he heard that? How often, too, had he heard "I love Seimei?" Kio knew who it was Soubi had given his heart to, given his whole life to, leaving nothing for Kio. Kio knew when he had lost, but he recognized that there was much more at stake than his personal feelings.

"That's not the same – "

"I love Ritsuka," repeated Soubi, now staring at him.

Kio knew what Soubi was doing, knew his friend well enough to read nearly all of his defensive tactics, but he didn't know quite how to deflect the barb, which stung into him no matter how he evaded. He bit back a retort, reminding himself that it didn't matter, and said instead, softly, "I know, Sou-chan. But you don't" – he hesitated, wanting to protect Soubi even as he realized that only blunt honesty would pierce through Soubi's shields – "you don't love yourself, and loving someone else without first loving yourself is not...real."

Something akin to anger smoldered to life in Soubi's suddenly narrowed eyes, and Kio resisted the urge to step back. He had dug his grave a long time ago; all that really mattered now was keeping Soubi from falling as well. He gritted his teeth and prepared for the worst.

The taller man spun on his heel and wordlessly strode through the open doorway, his footsteps echoing down the hallway after him.

Only then, in the emptiness of the room with shadows creeping in through the windows, did Kio let the tears fall, and despite all his noble intentions, he rather thought he was crying for himself.

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But for all his selfishness, he loves you more than he does himself and understands you more than you do yourself.

And you know, despite your rejection of him and despite your need for Ritsuka, that somehow his is the smile that sees you through the day.

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**A/N:** The "yellow swallowtails and orange-tipped kumomas and small white monshiros" are types of Japanese butterflies. There's no hidden meaning to them; I just picked a few from the website "Butterflies of Japan": www . asahi-net . or . jp / AK5T-KMN (without the spaces).

The italicized conversation towards the beginning is taken from Episode 4. The translation I used comes from YouTube, done by Aarinfantasy, I believe.

I am not at all impressed with this. This is more my genre than anything else and it was very poorly done. I don't think the semi-sappy last line gets my point across; it's not enough to convey Soubi's subconscious recognization that Kio plays a more important role in his life than he gives him credit for.

At any rate, let me know what you think could be improved, what you would like to see. Thanks for reading!

June 6, 2007


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